Bite Me!
by Pikacheeks
Summary: AU: Carlos lies and tells the group that Clementine's wound is actually a walker bite. She's taken to the middle of the woods by Nick to be killed. But can he kill her? Will she kill him instead? Or will they be able to save each other? Altered Storyline (Obviously) Older!ClementinexNick (Friendship Fic, but could turn into something more)
1. This Is How I Die

**A/n: **Hi! Yes, it is is, Pikacheeks! I've decided that I wanna write a Nickentine (Or would it be Click?) story as well as a Cluke one. I'm not sure if I want to make this romantic or not. My mind is telling me "no", but my body... My body is telling me "yes". Anyways, let me know what you guys think! Thank you, love you and don't forget to review!~

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"How's she look?"

The question hangs thick in the air.

The doctor looks at me with sharp eyes. He told me I had manipulated his daughter; used her to my advantage. He said I wasn't to be trusted. And whatever he said next would determine my fate.

I knew that it was a dog bite. He knew it as well, but something in my gut told me that he would use my injury as a way to dispose of me.

I sat on a a stool at the bar-style counter top in the kitchen with the doctor (Carlos, was his name), Luke, who was one of the guys who found me, and Nick, the guy who almost shot my face off. The entire room was illuminated by candlelight, as well as a lantern that sat on top of the table. Next to it, was Nick's rifle.

He stood with his back against the wall, chewing on his thumbnail. He seemed anxious and I knew why. I don't think he wanted to kill me, but if Carlos gave the word, then Nick would drag me outside and shoot me in the head, thus ending my brief (and quite frankly, _shitty_), eighteen-year long life.

I couldn't blame him though. If I were in his shitty, red cap, I'd do the same thing.

I look at Carlos, who is staring at me intently. He doesn't like me. In fact, he had known me for all of five minutes when he decided that he hated me. I knew what he was going to say before he said it.

"It's a lurker bite."

Luke shakes his head, "Fuck. You're sure, Carlos? It really didn't seem like it."

Carlos stands up, walking over to the sink and washing his hands. "Yes. I've seen plenty of lurker bites, and that's definitely one of them."

_You fucking liar._

I want to scream and yell. I want to grab a knife from the wooden block and kill him with it. Carlos has sentenced me to death.

Nick pushes himself off the wall, picking up his rifle and the lantern. "C'mon, then."

I look up at Luke, who gives me a sad look. He had hoped that I wasn't bitten, in fact, I think he also knew that I wasn't bitten. But he wouldn't contradict what Carlos had said, because that wouldn't go over well with the group. Standing up for my life would mean giving up his.

I push myself off the counter top, my arm twinging from the pain. I consider grabbing a knife, to fight back, but decide against it. It could be the difference between possibly getting shot out there and definitely getting shot in here. I look back at Carlos and Luke, who are watching me, waiting for me to leave.

"I hope you can live with yourself." I hiss at Carlos.

He face gives no hint of emotion, no regret, nothing, but satisfaction. Luke looks at the doctor warily, but says nothing.

I follow Nick out the front door. Once we're outside, he makes me stand in front of him, and he shoves my back with the end of his gun, signalling for me to move forward. We walk for a long time and he doesn't say anything. Not until I initiate the conversation.

"You do know that I wasn't bitten by a walker, right?" I ask condescendingly.

"Is that so? Why did Carlos say you were then, huh?"

"He hates me." I answer.

Nick spits, "He doesn't even know you, how could he hate you? That's the worst fucking lie I've ever heard."

"Fine then, don't fucking believe me," I growl, "But I hope you can live with the blood of an innocent girl on your hands for the rest of your life."

He shoves the barrel of the gun into my back, jutting me forward. "Shut the fuck up!"

My back throbs with pain, but I bite my lip and grit my teeth. "Fine, then," I say, "But you'll find out. No one can live with that guilt. Cause when you go back after you've killed me, everyone will think you've done them all a great service, but Carlos will know what you both have done. And there's no way he can keep that hidden, he's got a daughter of his own, after all. Then, in a moment of weakness, he'll tell you; he'll say in his stupid accent: 'Oh Nick, you remember that girl I said was bitten all those years ago? I lied. I fucking lied about it and now you're a murderer cause you put a bullet in her fucking skull'. And you'll think of me and you'll want to put a bullet in your own goddamn head. Is that what you want, Nick?"

"Shut the fuck up." He repeats.

Are you kidding me? That was the most bad-ass monologue in the history of the world and he's just gonna shrug it off? _Fuck this guy._

When we get far enough from the cabin, he juts me with his rifle, one more time.

"Here. Get on your knees and put your hands behind your head." He orders.

I let out a deep breath, doing as he told me to. How was I going to get myself out of this one? How could I possibly? He was bigger than me (he was kind of scrawny though), he had a fucking rifle, and he already didn't like me. There was nothing I could do. Was I going to die here? After everything I had gone through with Lee, Omid, and Christa, this was how I was going to meet my end?

"Anything you wanna say before you die?"

I feel myself lean forward and I try to stop them, but I can't. Tears, hot and salty, stream down my face in rivulets. I'm crying, gasping for air.

"Lee," I choke out, "I'm sorry, Lee. I'm not strong like you said I was, I can't take care of myself! I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

I crumple into myself, sobbing uncontrollably, waiting for Nick to shoot me. Waiting for this to be over.

I hear the crunching of leaves as Nick steps forward and presses the barrel of the rifle against the back of my head.

This is it.

This is how I die.


	2. The Monster By The River

**A/n: **I just want to thank you guys for the overwhelmingly positive feedback I was given by y'all for the first chapter! You're my favorite kinds of people! I hope this next chapter is enjoyable! Oh, someone said that my writing style was kind of annoying, so I tried to switch it up. Let me know if you like it~

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It feels like centuries are passing as I wait for Nick to pull the trigger and end my life. Honestly, I kind of hoped he would do it soon. My knees were starting to get sore from being on them, with various broken twigs and tiny rock fragments pressing into the flesh there. I mean, I didn't really want to die, but it would mean no longer being so uncomfortable. That's kind of messed up, huh?

"So, are you going to do it at some point?" I ask, "I mean, you could just walk away, you know? No one would know any better."

I no longer feel the barrel of his gun pressing against the back of my head. I turn my head to look at him, noting that he's lowered his rifle. He had a sad, tortured look on his face. Any other time, I might feel kind of bad for him, but right now, in my on-your-knees-waiting-to-get-shot-in-the-head position, I just couldn't feel that bad.

"How do I know you won't come back to the cabin?" He asks, his voice low and serious.

I feel my heart stop and hope begin to rise in my stomach like bile. "I give you my word."

"If I see you at the cabin, I swear, I won't hesitate to shoot you this time." Nick growls, "You can get up."

I look back at him, before slowly lifting myself up, my knees thanking my profusely. I dust all the dirt and twigs and teeny tiny rocks off of my legs. My arms stings and I hiss from the pain, before pulling it close and examining it. My suturing skills suck, that's for sure. But, to be honest, I never thought that I'd have the guts to sew myself up. It doesn't look that bad, though. It just stings like a bitch. "Sam fucked my arm up." I groan to myself, squeezing around the wound.

"Was Sam the lurker that bit you?" Nick asks, surprising me. I thought he would have left as soon as he set me free.

I turn around and face Nick, shaking my head. "Sam was the dog that bit me. I told you guys this. Besides, if it was a walker, wouldn't I have a fever by now? It's been hours since this happened. I would be close to turning about now."

Nick steps forward and presses his palm against my forehead. His hands are sweaty and clammy, but I don't say anything, lest he gets offended and decides to shoot me in the face. That would suck. "Yeah, I s'pose you're right." He concedes, "But I still don't wanna see you at the cabin. I don't want them to know that I lied about killing you."

I scoff, "Your whole group is made up of liars, huh? The pregnant lady lied about the paternity of her baby, the doctor lied about my bite, and now you're gonna lie about killing me. Fuck it, I'm glad I'm not gonna run into you guys again. You all would be nothing but trouble."

"Hey, you don't know what the fuck we've been through, alright? You know what? We're fucking done here. Don't fucking follow me back or I'll shoot you in your face, you got it?" Nick snarls at me.

"Fine. You leave, I'll watch whatever way you go, and I'll go the other way. Sound good?"

Nick grumbles something to himself and begins walking away. I turn the opposite direction and begin making my way... somewhere else. Maybe to find Christa. Maybe to find food. Maybe to die. I'm not sure. It was getting dark already and I had nothing. No knife, no gun, no food, no water, no shelter. Dying was a big possibility- probability, even. I make a couple of twists and turns when I see walkers, and soon enough, I can't tell what direction I'm going. For all I knew, I could be walking straight back to the cabin.

The sky is dark and littered with stars by the time I hear rushing water nearby. I close my eyes and listen closely, trying to hone in on the sound, and where it was coming from. When I had a decent idea of where it was, I opened my eyes and made my way to it. My efforts were rewarded not only with a streaming river, but also fish traps! _Oh my God_. Food. I kind of felt bad, since it was someone else's food, but it was a very well-built fish trap, there would be another fish to replace the one I took by the time they came back. Besides, there was a lot of fish. They wouldn't even notice.

I get on my knees and reach into the fish trap, grabbing one of the slippery fish and pulling it out of the water, as it began to flip and flop violently. I wait for it to stop moving before I set it on the ground and grab a nearby stick. I push it into the fish forcefully. If it wasn't dead from being out of the water, it was dead now. I pull the stick out and slide it through the fish's body like a kebab skewer. I set it down again, this time to look for rocks and sticks and leaves, anything to build a fire, like Christa had taught me to. I gather enough materials and head back to the stream to build my fire. It was small, meager, and weak, but it was enough to keep me warm and cook my fish. I wish I had my knife, that way I could have skinned it and cleaned it out. Instead, I had to eat the meat around the insides. Honestly, I had eaten worse since this whole apocalypse thing happened, but there's nothing that really makes biting into fish intestines okay. When I feel full enough, I wash my hands and face in the river, before dipping my head in and gulping down as much water as I could. Oh my God, it tastes so good. Now that my hunger and thirst were sated, I decided that now would be as good a time as any to try and get some sleep. I lay down next to my fire and close my eyes.

I couldn't be happier that this day was about to fucking end.

* * *

I wake up to people shouting. I crack my eyes open and sit up, ignoring the throbbing in my neck and back. The sun was barely rising, it couldn't have been any later than six. Ugh, what were people doing awake at this hour? I mean, I know it's the end of the world and all, but any day could be your last. Just sleep the fuck in.

"N-no, I don't know what the fuck you're taking about, man!" A man's voice cries. It's close to me, by the river. _Fuck._ I get on my belly and begin to crawl towards the river, hoping to get a glimpse of what was going on. I didn't want to get involved, of course, but if there was someone dangerous out here, you bet your ass I wanted to make sure I got a good look at them.

"Don't you lie to me now, Roman. I got two cute girls who say you've got a nice area 'round here, Shel and Becca. I just want to make sure y'all are safe." Another man says. I'm close enough to see them, and far enough so that they can't see me. There were two men, one of them was bald, wearing a green zip-up hoodie, and sporting bloody bruises on his face. He was being held by his shirt collar by another man. This man looked significantly older, with a full head of brown hair and a bunch of scruff around his face. His knuckles were bloodied.

"F-fuck Shel! That fucking bitch betrayed me and she'll betray you too, just you fucking watch!" Roman says, spitting out blood as he talks.

The other man shakes his head before pulling a gun out from his jacket pocket. "Now, I'd watch the way you talk about my people, Roman. I don't like them being insulted, because an insult to them, is an insult to me." He points to gun to Roman's leg, "Now tell me, where is your camp?"

"I don't kn-know-" Roman's answer was cut off by the sound of a gunshot and his screams of pain.

I flinched as I watched the brutality go on. The other man continued to interrogate Roman, but Roman was resilient. He refused to answer this man. I think he knew he was going to die after a while. The man kept shooting holes into Roman's various appendages, arms, legs, even his dick. Man, that was fucked up to watch. Finally, when it seemed like Roman's body was more bullet shards than flesh, the other man planted a bullet in his head. I was relieved for the poor guy. His suffering was over.

"I don't think Shel's gonna like that you killed this sonuvabitch." Some guy said, approaching the older man. He had shaggy, brown hair and looked like he could be the older man's son.

"Yeah, well, she'll get the fuck over it. Say, Troy, did you see any sign of 'em around? Luke, Rebecca, that asshole Alvin, or Carlos?" He asks. A chill runs down my spine as he says their names. _Oh no._ If they were involved with this monster, I was glad I got out when I did.

"Bonnie said she saw Alvin walking around some cabin about a mile or so off that way." Troy responds, "Should we go get 'em now or what, Carver?"

The man- monster- shakes his head, "No. I'll scope it out in a few hours. We need to deal with these traitors first. Then we'll deal with those traitors. Go get them out of the back of the truck."

Truck? I didn't see a truck. I look around and sure enough, a line of people, all male, were being lead to where Carver stood. They were all blindfolded and their hands were bound with cloth. Troy and some other person lead them with the barrels of their guns to where Carver stood. Troy untied all of their blindfolds and revealed one of the men to be one of the bandits that was in the woods with Christa. A felt fire pulsate through my veins. I had to fight the urge to run over there and kill him.

"Alright, folks, you all know what you did to be here. Luckily for you, I am a merciful soul. Now, I've got seven bullets here; that's one for every one of you. I'm gonna have Troy untie your hands and as soon as he does, you can run. If I don't kill you, you're free." Carver explains to the group. "You ready?"

There are murmurs and grumbles among the group of men. Troy undoes each of their cloth bindings and they all immediately begin to run away. Not a single one of them is alive after ten seconds of freedom. Carver chuckles, looking upon the scene. Dead, bloodied bodies littered the river. Troy walks to Carver, holding a pole, and hands it to him. Carver thrusts it into one of the bodies.

"There, that oughta let 'em know that I'm here. Let's see those fuckers try to escape me this time." Carver grins, walking back to the truck.

"And if they do try to escape again?" Troy asks, keeping up with Carver's strides.

"Well then, I'll kill 'em. All of em. Luke, Pete, Carlos, Alvin, Sarah, Nick, and even Rebecca." Carver says likes it's no big deal. The two men get into their truck and drive away. A feeling of relief washes over me when they're no longer within sight. I didn't have long now until all the bodies that weren't shot in the head came back as walkers, so I needed to find somewhere else to be. But something was tugging at the metaphorical shirt sleeve of my consciousness.

Carver said he was looking for them, the group at the cabin. And I didn't really care for them, especially since most of them were rude and Carlos had sentenced me to death. But Nick had shown me, not kindness, but mercy. He spared my life. I owed him my life. I knew he didn't want me to show up at the cabin, but this was important, right? I couldn't just let this Carver-monster go and kill Nick, at least.

A life for a life.

Then my debt would be repaid.


	3. Out Of The Frying Pan

**A/n: **Sorry for taking so long to update! I have no excuses, I'm just an asshole. *sweats profusely* Don't forget to review if you like it!

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When I wake up my head is throbbing and black spots are littering my vision. I blink one, twice, three times, trying to get rid of the splotches. Zip ties around my wrists and ankles keep me from moving. I close my eyes as I try to remember what happened before blacking out.

_There was that man- that monster- at the river._

_He killed a bunch of people._

_He was looking for Nick and the rest of the cabin group._

_I owe Nick my life._

_I went to warn him._

_I found the cabin._

_Snuck in through one of the windows._

_It was Carlos's window._

And that's it. That's all I can remember.

I look around, the room was illuminated by candlelight. I was the only one in here. I wiggle, trying to move around, but no no avail. I lift my wrists to my mouth and try to rip the zip ties with my teeth, but the plastic is too thick. _Fuck. Okay, breathe and don't panic._ I remember Christa teaching me how to escape from zip ties, but for some reason I can't recall any of the steps. I close my eyes and try to focus on her voice.

_"Don't panic, Clementine. That's the most important thing. Don't panic."_

Okay, I let out a deep breath, steadying my breathing. If I panic, Carlos will come back, I'll still be tied up, and he will kill me.

_"Tighten the tie. Make sure it's as tight as possible. It makes it easier for the tie to break this way." _

I lift the zip tie to my mouth again, pulling the end of the tie with my teeth as tight as I can make it. I can feel it begin to indent my skin, but I ignore it. Like always, survival would outweigh comfort.

_"Now, position the tie lock between your wrists. It's the weakest spot, so it's your best chance at breaking the tie. Do you understand?"_

I shift the lock so that it was between my wrists. Okay, now for the last step.

_"Now, what you're going to do, Clementine, is with a quick and tight movement, you're gonna hit the tie against your butt or your stomach. If you open your elbows upon the impact, it applies even more pressure against the tie. Remember to let your hands spring back from your body; the point isn't to hit yourself as hard as you can. Keep all these steps in mind and getting out of zip ties should be no problem."_

I lift my arms above me and bring them down onto my body. I gasp as I knock the breath out of my lungs, like an idiot. The zip ties break off though and really, that's all that matters. I massage my wrists where the plastic was digging into my skin, soothing it and making it feel better. I looked down at my ankles, which were also zip tied, but these would be much easier to break out of.

I lay myself onto my stomach and use my arms to pull my body towards the dresser where the lone candle stood, burning brightly. I reach up and grab the corner of the dresser and pull myself up, leaning against the dresser for stability. I grab the candle and carefully maneuver my way back down to the floor. I lean forward, candle in hand, and position the small flame against the plastic of the zip tie, praying that it's hot enough to melt. I hiss as hot wax drips on my skin, but I ignore it until the plastic of the tie melts and my ankles are free. I rub the skin of my ankles, silently praising myself.

I hear the knob of the door begin to turn and I blow out the candle and throw myself under the bed. I keep quiet as someone walks in, their footsteps light.

"Shoot, where did that candle go? I can't see anything." Sarah's voice asks no one in particular. "I guess I'll go ask dad."

She exits the room, leaving the door wide open. I wait until I hear her go downstairs, before I crawl out from under the bed. I tiptoe to the door, peeking my head out, to make sure the coast was clear. With no one in sight, now was the best time to try to find Nick. I walk by the bathroom door and knock on it.

"Would you wait a fucking minute? I'm pregnant and I've got a lot of pee." Rebecca's voice responds to my knock.

I move on to the next door. I knock twice, hard enough for whoever was inside to hear, but hopefully light enough for no one else to hear. I wait for someone to answer the door, when I hear the stairs creak. Sarah is whining at her father about not being able to read her book in the dark.

"Now, sweetheart, I asked you to stay out of the room for a little while." Carlos says, trying to hide the agitation in his voice. _Yeah, he had a skeleton from his closet zip tied and held prisoner, didn't you know?_

I want to meet him on the stairs and call him out on, not only lying about my dog bite, but for tying me up when I came back, like I was a prisoner. Before I can, the wooden door opens and Nick is staring at me with wide eyes. I push him inside the room before he can say anything or Carlos sees me.

"What the fuck, you said you wouldn't- You gave me your word!" Nick says, his voice is hushed so no one can hear him, but it's still kind of loud.

"I know, I know," I say, "But I wouldn't be here if it wasn't absolutely important."

"I don't give a fuck what it is," Nick growls, "I told you if you came back, I would shoot you in the face."

"Fine, you know, I hope Carver finds you and fucking kills you." I hiss.

Nick's body tenses up and I know that I've got him in my grasp. The fear evident in his eyes tells me more than enough. "How do you know who Carver is? Are you working with him? I fucking swear if you are, I'll-"

"What, shoot me in the face? Yeah, I get it." I say, exasperated, "I was by the river this morning and he was there. He took a group of people there and shot them all, for sport, and left the bodies there. He said he was looking for all of you, mentioned killing you if you didn't go easy."

Nick crosses his arms and leans against the wall, chewing on his thumbnail. "Fuck," He says, "Fuck. Fuck!"

I stood there, biting my lip. I didn't know what to do now. I told him about Carver, that was enough, right? I walk over to his window and open it up. I didn't want anyone else in Nick's group to see me leaving, thus discovering that Nick hadn't actually killed me. I was kind of glad Carlos found me though. I hoped that the knowledge that I wasn't dead and could successfully sneak in to the room that he slept him would keep him up at night. I swing my legs over the windowsill.

"Wait, where are you going?" Nick asks me.

"I'm leaving," I answer, "Isn't that obvious? Can you go get me a ladder or something?"

"Yeah, but..." He shakes his head, "Thank you, Clementine, for warning me about Carver. You might have saved our lives."

"I didn't do it out of kindness," I respond honestly, "I did it because you saved my life. A life for a life, right?"

Before Nick can respond, there's a heavy knock at the door. I don't know what to do, obviously, I can't go back in the room, but I can't just jump off the roof. Instead, I carefully walk to the side of the window, out of sight from the inside of the room. Anyone outside could probably spot me though.

I hear the door open and Pete's voice reverberates throughout the room. "Jesus, Nick, what are you doing in here? We were supposed to check the fish traps an hour ago."

_The fish traps? Oh, fuck!_ I had to tell him before they got there and saw the slaughter.

"Sorry, I was sleeping." Nick lies.

Pete scoffs, "Yeah, I'm sure. Believe it or not, I was lonely and twenty five once."

"Shut the fuck up." Nick growls, "Let's go check the fucking fish traps."

Nick pulls the window down, effectively locking me out of the cabin and stranded on the roof, with no way down. _Fuck._ I needed to get down. I needed to warn him.

If they went to the river, Carver could still be there. He could kill Nick after all the effort I went through to make sure he would be safe. I couldn't let Nick die.

Not if I could help it.


	4. And Into The Fire

**A/n: **Hi, I know it's been about 48 years since I last updated anything and I'm so sorry! I'm not gonna lie, I got a new game and it's been dominating all my spare time. *Sweats profusely* But there's is a very important something going on and I'd appreciate it if you guys could read the author's note at the end of the chapter. Thank you so much for reading~

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"I gotta take a piss. I'll meet you at the river."

Pete nods to Nick as the younger boy strays from their path, looking for somewhere to pee. I make sure to keep myself out of his sight until he finally finds somewhere to pee. His back is facing me when I decide to approach him, tapping his shoulder. He jumps up and swears under his breath when he realizes it's just me.

"Are you following me?" He asks, turning away from me, continuing to pee.

"No, well.. Yeah, but that's because it's really important." I answer, crossing my arms. "That Carver guy was by your guys's fish traps and you're heading there now. I though I should, you know, stop you guys or something."

Nick doesn't respond right away. "Why?" He asks, softly, "Why would you do that? You don't owe me anything anymore."

"Just cause I don't owe you anything doesn't mean I want you to die." I say, "You're a good guy, Nick. There aren't a lot of those left."

Nick scoffs, but he doesn't say anything. He zips up his pants and turns around, facing me. "C'mon, let's go get Pete and then get the fuck outta here. If Carver's looking for us, staying at that cabin is probably a really bad idea."

"You... want me to go with you?" I ask, meekly. "I thought you didn't want anyone to know that I was alive."

Nick narrows his blue eyes at me, pursing his lips. "I didn't," He says, bluntly, "But as far as I'm concerned, you've earned a spot with our group, if you want it." He starts to walk towards the river and I follow him closely.

"What about Carlos?" I whisper. It was kind of a struggle trying to keep up with Nick. He was tall, with long legs, taking long strides. I wasn't short or anything, but he was really tall, so for everyone one step he took, I had to take two.

"Carlos, is a good man," Nick says, "he was only trying to protect his family. If that's a problem, then maybe you shouldn't stay with us."

"He tried to have me killed," I hiss.

"He was protecting his family." Nick repeats, like it makes what I've said any less true. It's starting to aggravate me.

"Maybe I should just stay alone." I murmur, "The whole group thing just hasn't been working out for me anyways."

Nick shakes his head, saying nothing else. We're almost to the river when we hear Pete shout and a couple shots of gunfire. Nick's eyes widen and his face blanches. He begins to run towards the river. Fuck!

"Nick, there might be someone there!" I yell, chasing after him. "Wait! Nick!"

He ignores me, continuing forward. He reaches the river before me, but I'm hot on his heels. When I reach him, I stand next to him, surveying the carnage. All the bodies from before were still there, but a few of them had come back as walkers. The ones that came back as walker managed to grab Pete and were now feeding on his intestines, less than a yard away from us. I look over at Nick, who was standing still, his shaking hands curled into fists.

I grab his wrist, "We need to go, _now._"

He shakes his head, "N.. No, Uncle Pete..."

I yank on his wrist harder, almost dislocating it, "Nick, come on!"

He reluctantly lets me pull him away, but his eyes are glued to the walkers devouring Pete's body. I pretend that I don't hear him crying out his uncle's name, over and over. I just pull him away, further and further, until he can't see the river and we have somewhere to hide. The further we move from the river, the louder Nick calls for his uncle, and soon enough, we're being followed by walkers. _Shit! _

I look around everywhere for somewhere to hole up for the night. We happen upon a small shack and we run inside, slamming the double-doors shut behind us. The walkers scratch against the wood, throwing their bodies against the door. I press my back against the door, using all my weight, hoping to keep it shut. Nick is pushing the door shut as well, but he looks lost. I feel the walkers on the other side of the door gain numbers and strength, pushing against us.

"What's the plan here, Nick?" I ask, hoping he had an idea. I was all out and I really didn't want to die here.

Nick looks towards the back of the shack, before leaving me to tend to the doors by myself. Without Nick's strength, the walkers begin to overpower me, managing to open the doors. I push against the door with all of my might, hoping that whatever Nick was doing, he would hurry it up. I cry out his name, feeling my arms begin to shake and give. Nick appears from the back of the shack, with a box. He drops it on the ground and pushes it, grunting and groaning, against the door. I didn't know what was in the box, but it was heavy enough to keep the doors shut even with walkers clawing to get inside.

I breathed a sigh of relief before planting my butt on the hard ground. Nick walks over to a black, wooden chair and sits down, still maintaining that lost look in his eyes.

"I'm sorry about Pete." I say.

"Why did we leave him?" He asks, his voice low and shaky.

"Did you see him, Nick? He was... He was dead."

Nick doesn't say anything, instead he just looks away from me. The silence is unsettling, but I don't push him. Instead, I decide to look around the shack and see if there was anything I could use as sustenance. Food, water, anything. I hadn't eaten since last night. I examine a couple of barrels, slowly realizing that we weren't in just any random shack. We were in a moonshine distillery. _Fuck. _

I walk to the back of the shack, pushing aside empty boxes, when my eyes land upon several mason jars of sickly looking brown liquid. I sigh and grab two; one for me, one for Nick. I walk back to the guy and hand him one. He gives me a wary look as he unscrews the top of the jar. He takes a sip and scrunches up his face.

"Whiskey." He says, like I don't know.

"Yeah," I nod, taking a sip from my own jar, "I figured." The alcohol burns going down my throat and warms my stomach.

Nick doesn't say much else, but he drinks the whiskey like he's done it a million times. I'm slower with my jar of whiskey, not wanting to drink too much, too fast. I'd never drunk alcohol before, but it just seemed like common sense. Nick's face is flushed by the time he speaks again.

"You know, I had to kill my mom." He says, somberly, "Brought someone in that was bit. I guess we thought we could control it, but we couldn't. They got my mama and I had to shoot them both down. I didn't want to kill you, you know? But I didn't want to see someone else I loved die. It looks like it couldn't be avoided any way I tried though."

I lower my eyes, "People will always die. Especially people you love. Which is worse because, for some dumb reason, you think that just because you love them, the universe will decide to smile upon you and spare the life of your loved one. So, when they _do_ die, it feels even worse. You feel cheated and dumb for even hoping."

"You sound like you know what I'm going through." He comments.

I nod my head, the action making me dizzy. "Yeah, I kind do. There was a man, his name was Lee. He took me in at the start, cause my parents left me with the babysitter. I was fucking fourteen years old, that was four years ago." I shake my head, "He taught me how to survive, how to shoot a gun. He's the reason I keep my hair short. He's the reason I'm... _alive_."

I look up at Nick and see that his eyes are ringed red. He doesn't say anything, he just continues to sip the whiskey from his mason jar. Everyone has lost someone, by this point in the apocalypse, it was inevitable, and sympathy was something I thought I had run out of a long time ago. But something in the way Nick's eyes glassed over but refused to spill tears, the way his breathing was quiet but shallow... Something about Nick was pulling at feelings I thought I no longer could feel.

"I can't go back." His voice, low and raspy, cuts through the silence, "I can't face them all. I can't tell them that Pete's dead."

"What's your plan?" I ask.

"I don't know," He says, "What's our plan, Clementine? Cause right now, it's us against the world, and, no offence to you, but I don't think the odds are in our favor."

_Our plan? In our favor?_

_Us?_

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**(Another) A/n:** I've decided that I'm going to write some OC's into this story soon, so if you have an OC, please send me a PM with your OC's name, physical appearance, general back story, and personality. Thank you so much for reading and don't forget to review, if you were so inclined~


	5. Strangers With Guns

**A/n: **Hi guys, first of all, I would like to apologize for the two month wait. That's seriously awful and I'm so sorry. I'm gonna try to be better about updating though. Second, I would like to thank you guys for the overwhelming amount of OC submissions I got! I was amazed and I couldn't pick just a few, like I wanted, so I'm going to use all of them! ALL OF THEM! Thirdly, and lastly, the next few chapters might be a little.. Weird, but just trust me. Most of the break between the last chapter and this one was actually planning. And yes, this was the best I could do. Anyways, I really hope you enjoy this chapter and this crazy ride we're about to go on together! Don't forget to review, if you liked it~

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"Do you think the walkers out there have thinned out yet?"

I look up at Nick. The hollows underneath his eyes are deeper and darker and his skin is pale, but what really threw me off was the sound of his voice. We have been trapped in the distillery for two days, and he hadn't said anything since the first night. He voice was trembling, unsure and deeply sad.

I push myself up, dusting off my jeans. "I don't know. I don't hear them." I walk over to the doors that we had closed off and push against the heavy box, moving it out of the way. I push the doors open, slightly, and peek my head outside, examining our surroundings.

There were only two walkers, one female and one male, wandering around, but other than them, the path seemed pretty clear. In fact, we could probably run back to the cabin without much trouble. Even if Nick's group was gone, there was probably - possibly- food and water. I hope. God, I was hungry and thirsty and could use a good wash.

"It looks like we have a pretty straight shot to the cabin." I say when I turn around.

Nick looks up at me, a hopeful glint in his eye. "Really?"

"Yeah, so we gonna go or what?" I ask, "Cause it looks like it's almost sunset and there's no way I'm roaming these woods in the dark."

"Yeah, yeah." Nick stands up, grabbing his rifle, "Do you think, maybe, they're still there? Luke and Carlos and Alvin and Rebecca?"

I lower my eyes, not wanting to tell him what was probably the truth. "I guess we'll see."

I open the distillery doors and creep passed the walkers. Nick lifts his rifle to shoot, but I shake my head vigorously. That thing would attract every walker in a five mile radius. Instead, I grab a thick branch from nearby and lift it above my head, bringing it down upon the female walker, smashing her head in. The male walker hobbles towards me, but Nick lifts his rifle and thrusts the butt of it against the back of the its head. The walker falls to its knees, but it still stretches its arms, reaching out for me. Nick presses his foot against the walker's head, forcing it against the ground, before adding some more weight to his boot, effectively crushing its head.

"You're better at dealing with them up close than you are with that." I grin at him, pointing to his rifle.

"Yeah, we'll you're alright too. I guess." He doesn't smile and I feel like maybe I've offended him. He begins walking in the direction he believes the cabin to be in. I walk next to him, struggling, once again, to keep up with him and his long legs.

"So, what are you gonna do if they're not there?" I ask, gingerly.

Nick frowns deeply. "Then I'm gonna find 'em."

I roll my eyes, "You really think that you're gonna find five people out here?"

"I think that you're getting on my last fuckin' nerve." Nick growls at him.

"Fuck you too." I hiss back.

"Why are you even following me?"

"Because I'm hoping there's food there. Or water. I could use a nice shower." I answer, honestly. I also thought that maybe witnessing his uncle die with him, confiding into Nick about Lee, and spending two days locked in a dark room together brought us a little closer, but I guess I was wrong. Not that I wanted to be closer to Nick or anything. I just thought- Whatever, it doesn't matter!

After about a half mile, we see the cabin. No one was outside, and, as far as I could tell, no one was inside either. Something seemed off to me, but before I could say anything to him, Nick had already began running to the cabin. What the fuck was he thinking? _How, how, how has he survived the apocalypse this far?_ I run after him, swearing under my breath. By the time I reach the front door, he's already inside, calling out the names of the other cabin survivors.

I walk in, cautiously, closing the door behind me. Nick's voice resonates throughout the cabin, and I'm sure that any nearby walkers, or people, can hear him. I walk into the kitchen, looking for something to eat. In the pantry I find a couple of boxes of apple juice and a small, probably stale, Handi-Snacks box. Four years ago, this would look horrible, but on this day, it was like a feast. Like manna handed to me from the hands of God himself. I take the boxes of food and sit at the bar, nibbling on a stale cracker, when I notice a piece of paper on the ground. I walk over and pick it up, reading the words scrawled out across it:

**To Nick: We went out to find you and Pete, but we couldn't find you and Pete... Well, you probably know what happened to Pete. When we came back, Sarah was gone. We think Carver took her. I hope you actually find this note, man. I hope you're alive and okay. But we know that Sarah is alive for sure, so we left to find her. You know where we're headed. Take care, man. We hope we see you soon. - Luke**

_Fuck. Fuck!_

"Nick!" I call out, "Come to the kitchen! I found a note from Luke!"

I hear Nick's large, clumsy feet clomp down the stairs and before I know it, he's in the kitchen, looking at me, wide-eyed and nervous. I hold out the note, and he grabs it. His blue eyes scan the paper, over and over. When he's done, he looks up at me, like I'm the one that has to explain everything to him. Really, if anyone should be asking questions, it should be me. Like, who was Carver? Why would he take Sarah? Why would they think it was okay to leave Sarah alone in the first place? And where exactly were they headed?

"You okay, man?" I ask awkwardly.

Nick shakes his head, "They fuckin' left me. I don't know what to do. What do I do?" He looks up at me and I realize that it's a serious question.

I shrug, "Fuck if I know. I'm on my own too. Maybe it really is just us against the world." I recall his words from the first night in the distillery. When he gives me a puzzled look, I realize that he had a lot more whiskey than I did. He probably doesn't remember anything that we talked about.

"Fuck." Nick says suddenly, confusing me for about an eight of a second. I feel the all-too-fucking-familiar sensation of a gun barrel pressing against the back of my head.

"How's our food, ya fuckin' thieves?" A very angry, very Irish, female voice asks us.

"It's a little stale," I answer her, indignantly, "But very good."

The girl digs the gun into the back of my head, sending a wave of searing pain through my body. "How'd that feel, ya mog?"

"Fuck you." I growl, blinking my eyes, trying to concentrate on anything but the pain. It was like a deep, deep throbbing in the base of my neck.

"Keep it up and I'll feed you to the gowls outside. You got it, little girl?"

I open my mouth to retort, but Nick's big, blue eyes are begging me not to. So, I don't say anything at all. Besides, my head is hurting so bad, I really shouldn't say anything that would make her hit me again.

"Now, now, what do we have here?" Another voice says, this one female too.

What the hell? Did we get overpowered by a couple of girls? Nick should have been able to take both of them out, by himself! _What a wuss._

"A couple of thieves." The Irish girls says, "They're eating our crackers and drinkin' our juice."

"Are they a threat?" The other girl asks. I can hear her steps on the tile of the kitchen; she's pacing back and forth. Before I can turn my head to get a look at our captors, she walks in front of me. She has dark pink hair (how does she keep it pink? Does she raid stores for their hair dye?) that hangs down her back in a long braid. Her face is speckled in freckles, he lips a gentle pink color, and her sea green eyes giving her an extra pop of color. She had a black hoodie, some skinny jeans, and a pair of beat-up, teal-colored Converse. She was running her slender fingers along the blade of a very scary-looking machete.

"We found a rifle by the door." A male voice says, "But other than that, they look pretty harmless. Pretty useless too. They're both so damn skinny."

"Oy, I'm skinny _and_ I could kick your arse." The Irish girl says.

"That's true." The girl with pink hair agrees with the Irish girl. She looks down at me (I was only slightly shorter than her), and squints, trying to size me up, I guess. "What's your name?"

I hesitate before answering. "I'm Clementine."

"Nice to meet you, Clementine," She says, "I'm Percy. Whose your friend?"

"Nick," I answer, "Who are your's?"

Percy grins at me. "I've got lots of friends with me. The girl behind you is my good friend, Rosie. And the guy pointing a gun at Nick is my right-hand man, Trent. Right now, making sure you two didn't steal any of our supplies are my two other friends, Luna and Roxie. There's more of us too, out hunting or-" She pauses, and shakes her head, "Why am I telling you all this? Anyways, long story short, there's literally no way in hell that you two can take out all five of us. Or six. Maybe seven or eight. Possibly ten. So, before we get to the good stuff, like deciding whether to kill you or let you go, tell me: why are you guys in our cabin?"

I don't want to answer her, but there was something about her that made me feel comfortable with it. "Our people were here a few days ago. We got trapped by some walkers and couldn't get back until today and now they're gone and you're here."

Percy frowns, "That sucks. For what it's worth, they weren't here when we claimed this place, so they might still be alive. Now, another question: Are you or your friend sick, disabled, or pregnant?"

I crinkle my nose, trying not to blush. "What? No! Why would you even ask something like that?"

"Standard procedure," She answers, "I just want to know if you two could possibly be of some help to our group. We could always use a few extra hands."

"You've got to be kidding!" The Irish girl, Rosie, protests, "Did you hear the way this mog was talking to me earlier? She's got no fuckin' respect."

"Rosie has a point." Percy nods, "If we let you two in, could you guys keep your heads down? If not, well, I trust Rosie's judgement almost better than my own. So, if she thinks you're a threat to our group, she will put a bullet in your fucking brain."

"I don't want to be a part of your fucking community." I hiss at Percy.

Percy shakes her head and makes the sound of a buzzer from a game show. "Wrong answer, Clementine. What are we going to do with you?"

"I say we kill 'em." Rosie suggests.

"I dunno," The guy, Trent, says, "I mean, the girl's kinda cute. It's kind of a waste of a pretty face."

"Trent too," Rosie says, "I think he's becoming a danger to the group."

Percy sighs. She pulls herself up onto the bar, swinging her legs back and forth. "I'm really at a loss here, Clementine. See, you've got a really athletic build. You've probably taken out a bunch of zombies, right? And then there's your friend, Nick. We don't have a lot of males in our community, and I love good eye candy as much as the next girl. Plus, raw man-power is something our community is lacking. I think... Yeah, I think we'll take you to our community and we'll have a good, old-fashioned trial."

I immediately look up at Nick, who looks just as confused and horrified as I do. A trial? What the actual fuck?

"Unfortunately, we can't just have you guys knowing exactly where our people are, I mean, that's just not smart. And not-smart get's you killed."

The last thing I see before Rosie takes the butt of her gun against the back of my head again, is Percy's sweet and salty grin.


End file.
